


The Guardian Glan

by PurpleAsters



Category: EXO (Band), Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: (For Skyrim), Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Medieval, Alternate Universe - Skyrim Fusion, Angst, Blood and Violence, Canon-Typical Violence, Character Death, Civil War, Dragons, Elder Scrolls Lore, Fate & Destiny, Gen, Humor, M/M, OT12 (EXO), Only ChanBaek and one other relationship tag are romantic sorry, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Park Chanyeol-centric, Quests, Slow Burn, Swords & Sorcery, Taverns, You don't need to have played the games to understand really, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-15
Updated: 2020-08-18
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:20:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25922740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PurpleAsters/pseuds/PurpleAsters
Summary: The land of Skyrim is harsh and unforgiving for both outsiders and it's own natives. With the Civil War and the return of the dragons of folklore, one wouldn't think that making their home in the Nordic homeland was the best idea.However, with an intense and unexplainable pull to his ancestral land has Chanyeol leaving his home in Bruma to the rough land.Of course, the snow storms and trolls are not the only adventures he'd be faced to run into along the way. Maybe he should have just stayed in Cyrodiil.— or —The Skyrim-OT12 au! nobody asked for but I wrote anyways.
Relationships: Byun Baekhyun/Park Chanyeol, Do Kyungsoo | D.O & Kim Jongin | Kai, Do Kyungsoo | D.O/Kim Jongin | Kai, Huang Zi Tao | Z.Tao & Wu Yi Fan | Kris, Huang Zi Tao | Z.Tao/Wu Yi Fan | Kris, Kim Jongdae | Chen & Kim Minseok | Xiumin, Kim Jongdae | Chen/Kim Minseok | Xiumin, Kim Junmyeon | Suho & Zhang Yi Xing | Lay, Kim Junmyeon | Suho/Zhang Yi Xing | Lay, Minor or Background Relationship(s), Oh Sehun & Park Chanyeol, Oh Sehun/Park Chanyeol, Park Chanyeol & Everyone
Kudos: 3





	1. An Expected Journey

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, Readers
> 
> Welcome to The Guardian Clan!  
> This story is set in The Elders Scrolls universe, specifically the fifth installment in the game series, Skyrim. 
> 
> Skyrim is one of my favorite games, so bringing it into my kpop stan life is nice. 
> 
> For those who don't know of the video game TES5: Skyrim, it's a game that takes place in a medieval universe with dragons, magick, swords, and trolls!  
> The main plot points of the entire series is that the player character saves the world from whatever great evil is attempting to take over the mortal plane. 
> 
> It's a really good game, and if you ever get the chance I suggest playing or watching gameplay! 
> 
> I don't want to spoil much for the story, but I wanted to set a warnings list/notes before we start since the story will play so much into the game.
> 
> 1\. EXOK (Suho, Baek, D.O, Chanyeol, Kai, and Sehun) will be the main focus for the first part of the story, and most of EXOM (Yixing, Chen, Xiumin, Tao, and Kris) will come in later! Luhan is the only exception, with him having a roll in the first half but he doesn't stick around through the whole story! 
> 
> 2\. Because of the nature of the game, TGC will of course be mature. Expect violence and death, please. 
> 
> 3\. For those who've played, I've edited the lore and physics of the elder scrolls universe a bit to fit this storyline! If something doesn't match up with the official lore, just know that I probably changed it for a reason! And for those who haven't played, I'll try my best to explain the most important things along the way! 
> 
> 4\. There's two ships in this story, ChanBaek being the main one, however romance is not the main focus! Expect extreme slow Burn and plot drive! 
> 
> 5\. This literally follows the Skyrim Main Quest storyline, and most of the side adventures are side quests. That means that once The Main Quest has been finished I'll move onto the DLCs (Dawnguard and Dragonborn), if your familiar with the games please know that I'm altering some quest events to fit the concept and sometimes to help fill in plot holes that Bethesda left behind (Thanks Tod.) 
> 
> 6\. I'm not a strong writer, but I'm trying really hard! Please be easy on me!
> 
> I hope you all with enjoy!  
> Please don't hesitate to drop a comment, tell me if you like the story or point out any grammar/spelling mistakes!

It's early First Seed, the normally always cold land of northern Cyrodiil is a bit warmer. The snows have melted enough for the roads to show and for crops to be planted for the year to come. But the warmth does not only bring food and singing birds to the northern ledge of the province.

The heavy clanking of cold steel echoes throughout the dense forests, the low muffle of voices talking in short chatter as the heavy padding of feet hits the dirt path. 

A boy, barely at the cusp of thirteen, hunkers down into the tall bushes to the side. His eyes locked onto the lines of men marching their way north. Watching the tiny details, from the cold dark color of the men's armor to their southern accents as they converse.

The imperial soldiers have always amazed him, inspired him to fight and bring law and order. One day he'd be with them, sword in hand and the pledge to the emperor on his tongue. 

As one man in particular glances in his direction however, he ducks down in panic. 

He's hard to see, his dark clothes blending into the foliage around him and hiding him from the approaching soldiers. But still, he doesn't want to be seen. 

The boy waits for a moment, listening to the padding of boots. He raises back up, ignoring the twigs that now cling to his hair as he does. 

The soldiers continue on, slowly thinning out until he can't see them anymore. He slowly stands up, stepping away from the bushes with a sigh. 

"What are you doing out here, brother?" 

The boy yelps, jumping away from the sudden voice that sends the fear of The Nine into him. He stumbles, falling backwards and into the bush he was previously using as cover. 

The branches scratch at his skin and rip into his tunic and pants in random spots, he huffs out his panicked breaths as he stares up at the ghost that just gave him a heart attack. 

A girl, a teen, stands in front of him with her hands on her hips and a glare in her eyes. Her simple red and cream dress is stained at the edges with bright green from the grass and shrubs around them. 

She's unamused at his near death experience, instead pursing her lips at him like a mother would her misbehaving child. Though, her attitude does nothing to scare him. 

He takes a deep breath, hand resting over his chest as he evens out his breathing. It's his turn to glare, soft face still filled with baby fat causing it to be much less effective. 

"Yoora! Don't scare me like that!" 

The girl, Yoora, huffs and makes to kick out at the boys splayed out legs, he flinches as one lands on his shin. 

"You're a baby." 

The fallen boy cries out in protest, rushing to get up from his crushed bush. He struggles a bit, whining as the small twigs and pebbles stab into his hands when he pushes himself up. 

"I'm not a baby! I'm 13, I'm a man!" 

He stands tall, puffing out his chest and squaring his shoulders to make himself seem bigger. Yoora snorts, patting his fluffed up and wild hair in a condescending manner. 

"Sure, you're not..." She suddenly pinches his cheek, pulling at the pudge of fat and cooing. "You're a big strong man, huh Yeolie?" 

"Shut up, Yoora!" He yelps out, swatting away her hand and cradling his abused face with a pout. 

There's a short moment of silence between the two before the older speaks up, attention now focused to face the direction the soldiers had stalked off to. 

"So...what were you doing, Chanyeol?"

The boy, Chanyeol, drops his hands and brightens up. He bounces on his feet, moving from his spot the jump over the bush to stand in the middle of the road, pointing in the direction the men went. 

"Oh! The Legion just passed by, all decked out in their armor and weapons! It was so cool, Yoora!" 

Yoora however seems less enthusiastic compared to the other, shifting her weight awkwardly before following him into the road. She looks troubled, and he seems to notice his sister's lack of acknowledgement. 

"Yoora?"

"Yeol, they went towards town didn't they…" She asks, an odd tone in her voice that is enough to make her younger brother feel uneasy. 

"I think so...why?" He mumbles out, shrinking into himself as the atmosphere becomes heavy. 

Yoora doesn't respond, instead silently grabbing Chanyeol's hand and forcing him to jog beside her as she takes off down the road. Chanyeol yelps out, stumbling behind but thankfully keeping pace.

The two trek down the dirt road, the older not opening her mouth as her brother bellows out one confused question after another. He's not sure what's happening, or why his sister is acting this was so suddenly.

Two siblings home city of Bruma wasn't far from where they had met up, only a few minutes away if walking at a normal pace. So with the two jogging the way they are, the front gate appears much faster. 

The pale stone walls trigger something in Chanyeol that makes him suddenly worry if he's in trouble. Sure his mother and father didn't like him wondering the outskirts, but they'd never punished him for being so adventurous. 

Was Yoora mad at him? He hadn't done anything, Chanyeol had even made sure all of his chores were done before he left to explore, plus it had just been chance for him to almost cross paths with the traveling soldiers! 

He pulls against his sister's hold on his hand, trying to free the limb from her grip. He winces as it tightens the closer they get to the city.

"Y-Yoora you're hurting me…" 

She doesn't acknowledge him, whether she heard him or not is a mystery, but she does pull him faster and she starts to sprint towards the large open gate. 

As the two enter through the walls they're met with the same group of soldiers that Chanyeol had been watching with wondering eyes. However instead of him seeing the honor of the people's guards, he sees them standing around and pushing an elderly man down to his brittle knees. 

He gasps, trying to watch as his sister tugs him deeper into the city and away from the scene. He catches a glimpse of the soldier, who pushed the man down, holding something up to show the crowd, something a golden bronze color that catches the light just enough for him to know it's there. 

"W-What are they doing to that man? Why are we running? Yoora?" 

Chanyeol pulls his gaze in front of them rather than the crowd behind them now, he notices where they're going and frowns. Their house comes into view, the familiar blacksmiths forge sitting in front is unmanned. Where's his father?

The elder of the two pulls him to the house, swinging the door open and revealing the chaos inside as their mother and father dart around the house. 

Chanyeol and Yoora's mother spots them first, her face paler than normal and she looks flustered, her normally combed and pinned up brown hair is falling down in frizzled strands and into her face. Their mother was always much more level headed and focused compared to their father, so seeing her like this shook Chanyeol to his core. 

Once she sees them she lets out a noise of relief, rushing to them and pulling them both into a short group hug. 

"My babies! I'm glad you're okay…" 

"Ma' what's going on? I got a bad feeling when I saw the Legion and came straight home…" Yoora huffs out, voice slightly airy from the run they endured. 

"They're clearing out Talos worshipers again and they're probably going to try and recruit more men for their cause. As if we'd join those elf loving sellouts..." Comes the voice of their father, he draws their attention from his position near the dining table. 

Their father was a strong man, a true Nord from the books. He was tall, as tall as Chanyeol wished he'd grow to, and hardened from years of working the forge outside their house to make a living. And in his hand, he held a small statue of Talos. 

Religion was never a big deal to Chanyeol, but he knew how much The Nine meant to his parents and to Yoora as well. The conflict of the banning of Talos's worship was a bit too confusing for his young brain to fully grasp, but he didn't see a problem with the people of Tamriel worshipping who they wanted and felt connected to. 

But apparently it was more complicated than just a simple freedom of choice. And because it was more complicated, here stood his parents attempting to hide any questionable relation to the hero-god. 

Chanyeol watches as his mother huffs, turning away from her children to grab the statue from her husband's hands. 

"Hush now my love, we have more pressing matters than bad mouthing the Empire." 

She walks off, nodding at Yoora to follow, and leaving Chanyeol to blink in his spot in confusion. He looks to his father, who's now busying himself with rearranging the small statues of The Eight Divines since Talos's statue had been removed and hidden. He pushes them around before stepping back and glancing between them and his son. 

"What do you think laddy, look natural enough?" He asks, voice gruff and gravely. 

Chanyeol tilts his head and nods.

"I wouldn't question it!" 

The man laughs, walking over and ruffling the boy's hair. Chanyeol whines and ducks down to make it stop. 

"Alright, well let's head outside so you can help me with the forge. Can't let the fear of those dogs cut into work time." 

The two step outside, having faith in the other two family members to properly hide everything that could cause a scene. Chanyeol follows his father towards the work area, immediately grabbing his father's apron for him as well as his own smaller one. 

As the two step around one another Chanyeol can't help but let his eyes fall to the slowly approaching group of soldiers. Suddenly their armor and swords seem more intimidating knowing the real reason they're there. He tries to focus, handing his father the required tools and moving the newly made swords and daggers to the growing pile next to the grindstone. 

The next time he looks up there is two soldiers approaching their home, headed straight for his father. He stays off to the side, trying to seem as busy as he can while trying to listen. 

"Good morning! Getting some work done?" One greets. 

"Aye, gotta keep the embers hot for the demand." Replies his father, who slows his work to speak to them. 

The one who spoke nods, face barely visible thanks to his helmet. The other glances around the forge, eyes landing on Chanyeol briefly before moving on. He speaks next, interrupting the two speaking. 

"Let's drop the pleasantries, you know why we're here." 

"Aye, I know why. Sorry to break it to you boys, but we don't worship Talos here." His father cuts out, voice dull.

"You expect us to believe that a family of Nords aren't hailing the false god? I find that hard to believe." The same man spits out, he gives Chanyeol a bad feeling. 

His father huffs. 

"Well, sorry laddy. But you stripped us of our freedom long ago, even here in Bruma the Thalmor's lap dogs have weaseled us all out." 

The two go back and forth for a bit, the guard claiming against his father's words and the occasional insult is thrown around. Eventually the other man pulls his comrade back, choosing to leave instead of continue the push and pull game. 

As the two leave to harass another family, his father sighs and goes back to working. Chanyeol steps over to him. 

The older Nord looks down at his son, a small sad smile tugging at his lips to attempt to comfort the boy. 

"Men like that, who bend the knee to an unjust cause, should never be trusted." 

Sure, The Empire weren't the best of people, they'd bent under the pressure of the Altmari Dominion and plunged Tamriel into a constant state of war in each province, but Chanyeol can also admit that his father's Nordic ways weren't the best either. It was a double edged sword conflict that he didn't fully grasp. 

However what he did grasp, was the disgruntled and lost look on his father's face as those men walked away. He remembered his mother's messy hair and pale face. His sisters panicked running and nervousness in her voice. 

It's when he thinks about all of that, that Chanyeol realises that he doesn't want to be an imperial soldier anymore. 

* * *

  
"Chanyeol, we've talked about this! I don't want you wandering off North, it's a dangerous place!" 

"Ma' just listen to me on this! I have a plan, I'll be fine. I can't stay in Bruma my whole life, I want to adventure and see Tamriel…" Chanyeol argues, eyebrows furrowed as he tries to pull his best puppy eyes possible. 

Unimpressed, his mother scoffs at him and rolls her eyes. Turning back to her previous task of stitching a patch onto his father's apron. 

"I said no. You're far too young to be leaving on your own! Besides, what's wrong with Bruma? It's a lovely place to grow a family." 

He makes a noise of frustration and steps around his mother's worktable to look at her face. 

"I'm 26, how am I too young? Mother please!" 

It was true, well past the meek age of thirteen, Chanyeol grew into a fit young man. 

Tall, like his father, with expressive dark eyes and even darker hair that never lost its volume. With his height came muscle, years of helping with the forge and his own training left him with a solid frame that could intimidate quite a few men and mer. 

Both of his parents were proud of the man that their son came out to be, head strong but empathetic enough to never leave someone in the dust. 

But, with that maturity came his insistent need to act on his childish whim to explore the world. While his body grew, his mind stayed open and his imagination ran from Atmora down to Valenwood. 

This wasn't the first time Chanyeol had attempted to persuade his mother into giving him her blessings to leave for the Skyrim Providence. She was his only obstacle now, having long discussed it with his father and been given the okay. 

He was ready to leave, everything he'd need was already packed and mapped out. However he couldn't set off without his mother allowing him to, he cared for her too much and couldn't bear to part on bad blood. So he pushed on, bringing it up when he could and trying to comfort her mind with his promises. 

But, true to her Nordic blood, she was as stubborn as a cow. 

They might say the man runs a family, but in reality the mother does. She held their family together and Chanyeol could never think of upsetting her. 

She was more protective of him, with both him being her youngest and being the last child in the house. Yoora had been married and out of the house for years now, living in the Imperial City with her husband and son. 

He was still her baby, and he understood that. But he still needed to live his own life, and the pull he felt towards Skyrim was heavy and tight. He'd tried to explain it to his parents once, but he knows it didn't come across accurately. 

A tug in his heart at the mention of his ancestral land, reading books about the frozen mountains and the wild beasts made his heart speed up, nights spent dreaming of a black void and only hearing a voice telling him to come home. The need to leave Bruma wasn't just his own selfish want of an expected journey, it was deeper than that. 

His father understood the best out of the two, after all he'd been born and raised in Falkreath for his child and teen years. While the older Nord didn't grasp the pull that Chanyeol felt, he understood the want to return home to the fatherland. His mother was a different story, Nord by blood yes but she's never been outside of Cyrodiil. Before they'd met and married, his mother had lived in The Imperial City. She's grown up only in the center of Cyrodiil and never held a need to visit Skyrim like Chanyeol or his father. 

Yoora took after their mother in that aspect too, never understanding why her younger brother was so curious and grew the dedication to leave. He doesn't hold it against her, nor his mother either. 

But still, trying to convince their woman that he'd be okay was tougher than iron. 

His mother sighs, setting the apron and needle down for a moment, and looks up to meet her son's pouting face. 

"Chanyeol…" 

Before she can continue their front door opens, in walking Chanyeol's father with a new steel chest piece dangling in his left hand. He stops in the doorway for a second and looks at his wife and son before snorting a low laugh and continuing this entrance. 

He meets Chanyeol's sad gaze and grins.

"Still trying, huh?" 

Chanyeol's mother scoffs, turning to her husband and shaking her head. 

"Are you in on this too?" 

The man shrugs, setting down the armor on a rack off to the side. He steps over to stand behind his wife and set his hands on her shoulders. 

"I don't see a problem with it. He's a grown man, dear…" 

Chanyeol makes a face as if to say 'I told you so' but goes unnoticed. He glanced between his parents, crossing his fingers in hopes that his father will convince his mother. 

"I don't know, love. It's a dangerous place, he's never even seen combat! I just don't think it's a good idea…" his mother lands her eyes back into Chanyeol, reaching over and resting her hand over his own on the table. "Just stay here with me and your father'!" 

He frowns and sighs, a crescent fell expression overtaking his face. He looks at his mother's hand, taking in the light wrinkles of age and the simple wedding band he's never seen her without. He grabs her hand and holds it in his own like it's a treasure. 

Chanyeol looks up, meeting her warm brown eyes. "Ma'...I know you're scared of me leaving, but I need to do this. It feels right, and the more I ignore it the worse I feel. Please understand, I'll be safe! Do you think I haven't been training my hand all of these years? I can hold my own, and I need to find my own path. Please…" 

There's a short silence, leaving Chanyeol to pray to The Nine that she agrees, or at least budges a little on the topic. Before his mother can reply however his father speaks up first, clearing his throat. 

"He's got a point, dear." 

Chanyeol looks at his mother as she sighs. The older woman slumps in her seat a bit, reaching up and rubbing her temples. He leans in anticipation as he waits for her decision. 

She sits back up straight, and hums. 

"I suppose...you're right…" she suddenly stands up, arms crossing over her chest and staring down at her son with a stern look. "Okay, you have my blessings-" Chanyeol makes a noise of excitement in his throat, shooting up from his seat and pumping a fist in the air. He freezes however when his mother clears her throat, he looks at her sheepishly and lets her continue. 

She scoffs. 

"As I was saying. You have my blessings, however I expect you to write to us at least twice a month, no less!" 

Chanyeol dashes around the table, bumping into the table along the way and envelopes his mother is a tight hug. 

"Thank you!" 

She pats at his back to signal him to let go, which he does with a dopey smile. She sighs softly, a small smile on her face as she cups his cheeks. 

"You're my precious son, I just worry something bad will happen once you step outside that door…" 

He shakes his head, ruffled hair falling into his eyes.

"I'll be fine. Have some faith in me, ma'!" 

His mother sighs again and pats his cheek twice before pulling away and setting her hands on her hips. His father lands a hand down on Chanyeol's shoulder, sharing a grin before his mother draws his attention again. 

"So, when are you planning on departing?" 

Chanyeol ducks his head down, sheepishly looking up to meet her eyes with an awkward smile. 

"Tomorrow?" 

"Tomorrow?!" She shrieks out, eyes blown wide and a look of betrayal on her face. 

He waves his hands around in a panicked manner, thankfully his father saves him.

"Now, love. Chanyeol's been gearing up for a while now, of course he's ready to leave at a moment's notice!" 

She makes a scandalized sound of protest, crossing her arms and glaring a hole into her son's head. 

"Really? So soon?" 

Chanyeol nods while dropping his head again and biting his lip.

"Aye…" 

She sighs for the thousandth time that day but nods back reluctantly. He watches her think for a moment before he sees her take a deep breath and sit back down. 

"Fine…we'll talk more in the morning before you leave." 

The younger Nord makes a noise of acknowledgement as his father pats his shoulder again and speaks up. 

"Right then...Chanyeol, why don't you come help me move the armor bench to the side, I need an extra hand." 

Chanyeol nods and follows his father out of the house, glancing back at his mother who's gone back to working on the tattered apron with a sad smile on her lips. 

He feels bad leaving, but it's something he needs to do. She understands that, he hopes. 

  
The next day, as the sun shines down from its early morning rise, Chanyeol stands in his childhood bedroom. There's a deep sense of sadness that hid beneath the overwhelming excitement he feels. 

He and Yoora had shared a room for most of their lives until his sister had left for the Capital. He remembers the day she'd packed her bags, much like he'd done himself. Through the faint wall of tears that had coated his eyes that night he'd helped her fold up her dresses and place her books, he's been so sad to see her leave. 

Standing there now he couldn't help but look around at the now plain and emptied room with that hidden sadness. 

Like his sister before him, he'd only take the essentials, Toben could only carry so much after all, but even with the bare minimum missing the room seems to empty. 

He can remember how annoying it had been to share it with his sister, they'd fight and bicker about privacy and whether or not he or she had touched the others whatever at that time. But looking back, he wouldn't have asked for them to be split. 

Chanyeol sighs, giving the room one last gaze, before he picks up the last bag he'd need and slings it over his shoulder and neck. It had his maps and other emergency items, but most importantly it had been Yoora's when they'd been mere children. 

He turns from the room and shuts the door behind himself silently, taking another breath momentarily and trots down the short stairs. 

His mother is sitting down by the fireplace, staring into the licking flames as they dance around the log that had been put on not but an hour before. She has Chanyeol's cloak in her lap, the thick pelts thrown over her legs as her fingers rub at the fur lined hood. 

He approaches quietly until he's standing before her, he kneels down next to her and speaks in a soft voice.

"Ma'?" 

She turns her gaze to him, eyes a bit watery but it's swiped away with the blink of her lids. She offers him a smile, sitting up a bit in her seat and looking down at the cloak she's been messing with. 

"I didn't have time to make you a new one, so I tried my best to extend your old one to fit you better..." 

Chanyeol looks down at his mother's hands and the unfinished end stitch, before he reaches out and takes the two last bits of the thin leather and ties it off tight. He then grabs her hands, rubbing soothing circles into the aging skin as he meets her eyes. 

"Thank you, mother." 

She sighs, eyes watering up again but this time she allows a tear to fall. 

"Oh, My dear boy..." 

Chanyeol doesn't drop his smile, though it softens as he reaches up and brushes away the lone trail that dampens her cheek. His mother lets out a wet laugh, pulling her hands away and wiping her own eyes with the sleeves of her dress. 

"By the gods! Why am I weeping, I know you'll be perfectly fine!" 

He laughs lightly and stands up, taking the cloak from his mother's lap and helping her stand up as well. 

"Aye, you and Pa' raised me well." 

She laughs softly with him, nodding her head and patting the few loose strands of hair down around her braid as well as the few wrinkles in her dress. She turns to him as smiles, stepping around him and gestures at the cloak in his hands. 

"Put it on for a moment! I need to see how it looks!" 

Chanyeol makes a noise of excitement and pulls the heavy pelting off of it's resting place over his forearm. 

The cloak is old, one he's worn as a teenager during Winter. It was made of thick black fabric and animal pelt, the hood in-lined with pepper colored fur. Two straps crossed the wearers chest to keep the cloak from falling off at fast movements. 

As he puts it on, the weight added onto him sending him back years to his young life, he hears his mother let out a small gasp. He looks up as he buckles the straps over his chest. 

There's another gloss coating her eyes again, hand drawn up to cover her mouth as she looks him up and down. He frowns and looks down at himself. 

"Do I look off?" 

"No! Not at all..." She mutters, drawing his attention back to her. She smiles, a bit sad. "You...You just look so much like your father..." 

Chanyeol makes a face at the thought of a young version of his own father. He tilts his head at his mother. 

"Is that a good thing?" 

She snorts out a laugh, stepping forward to adjust the cloak to her liking. 

"Of course it is Chanyeol! Did you think I married your father without finding him handsome?"

"Ah! I don't want to know!"

Chanyeol feels his face heat up a bit and cringes away from his mother's hands. 

"Oh hush now, Yeol! As if you've never thought of girls your age, why when I was young and I first met your father I nearly-" The woman huffs out, hands resting on her hips. 

"Ma'! I don't want to know about you and Pa'!" He whines out, hands covering his ears, and ducks his head down. 

Thankfully he's saved when the front door opens with a groan, his father stepping inside and raising his eyebrows at his red faced son and annoyingly pleased looking wife. 

"Love, just what have you done to turn the boy that color?" 

"I did nothing other than speak of our youth and how much he resembles his dashing father at his age!" His mother argues, rolling her eyes at them both. 

Chanyeol whines again, curling into himself and pulling the hood of his cloak up to hide his face, he immediately regrets it as the heat inside of the house plus the heat added by the cloak chokes him up. He hears his father laugh at his misfortune and pouts like a child. 

His father's voice diverts the topic away from embarrassing Chanyeol to something else, letting his son uncurl himself and will the blush on his cheeks and ears to go away. 

"Alright, Alright. We can't have the boy meet the gods before he's even stepped foot out of the house." The man smiles before turning to look at his son. "Lad, I need to speak with you."

Chanyeol nods, sending his mother a small, still slightly embarrassed, smile before following his father outside. 

The air hits him in the face, chilled breeze biting at the heated skin of his cheeks and nose with annoyed pinches. Though the wind is cool and nippy, the temperature isn't that low, sun working it's best to melt the summer snows down. His cloak is a bit too warm, but he can't bring himself to take it off just yet. 

His father leads him to the work area, turning around to face him once they're standing next to the armor bench. 

Chanyeol watches as his father picks up the roll of bound leather from on top of the bench. The man looks at his son, a special warmth in his eyes as he hands the bundle to him. 

As he hands it over, he speaks in a soft voice. 

"A gift, for your travels..." 

Chanyeol blinks up at his father as he takes the gift. He pulls the loose bow tie so that it let's the leather fall open. A dagger. 

Made of dark steel and something else, that he can only assume was bone if he only went off of color and texture. The slim handle lacked leather gripping, instead having indentations carved into the steel all the way up to the base of the blade where that dark steel fanned out in steps. The blade, tan colored and wide, looked dull and blunt but he could tell it was recently sharpened. 

"I've never seen a blade like this..." 

His father watched him for a moment as he studied the dagger with a pinched face of curiosity. 

"Aye, it's Dragonbone." 

Chanyeol's head jerked up at neck breaking speed. 

"Huh?" 

The man nods, taking the dagger from his sons hands and balancing it on his finger. 

"You heard me, Dragonbone. Forged long ago back when the beasts still flew the skies." He hands the blade back to Chanyeol with a pleased grin. "It's been in my family for years, passed down to me by my father and to him by his father before him, all the way back..." He meets his sons eyes, the same warm glint from before still burning away like a candle. "And now, it's time that I passed it onto you."

"Wow..." Chanyeol mutters, testing out the weight and balance of the blade. He stops and looks up at his father, a smile curling his lips. "Thank you, father." 

The elder Nord stares at his son for a moment longer before he's pulling him in for a tight hug, hand smacking against Chanyeol's back in comforting and strong pats. His son hugs back just as tight, finding an odd comfort in the smell of coal and metal that always lingered on his father's skin and clothes. 

There's no verbal terms of affection, but Chanyeol can feel the unspoken words at great volumes. His chest is warm as they pull away and grin at each other. 

Before they go back inside he's handed a belt with two holsters attached to the left side, one for his newly acquired dagger while the other is meant for the sword he's used for years now. He straps it around himself happily as they re-enter the house for the final time. 

Inside his mother is busy shoving what looks like a wrapped square of cake into Chanyeol's side bag, trying to look as inconspicuous as possible as the two men enter and catch her red handed. 

"Love, you add anymore food to his packs Toben will collapse under the weight." His father says playfully, though he raises his hand in mock surrender at the glare that is shot his way.

"Ah, can never have too many cakes." 

Chanyeol grins, sending his mother a pointed look. 

Eventually though everything turns a bit somber as Chanyeol walks to his mother to receive his bag from her hands. He meets her eyes, sees the worried wobble of her gaze as it shifts around his face like she's trying to memorize it. He smiles softly again and brings her in for a hug.

For once she doesn't push him away with affectionate complaints, instead she wraps her arms around his waist and squeezes. He squeezes back gently, comfortingly rubbing high on her back to ease the light trembling of her shoulders. 

When she speaks it's muffled in his chest, but he still hears it perfectly clear. 

"Be safe, please?" 

He squeezes a bit tighter for a moment and presses his cheek to the top of her head. 

"Always." 

When she pulls away there's tears in her eyes and rolling down her cheeks again, but she wipes them away like before she lets out a shaky breath and flattens out her dress again. 

"Okay! Enough tears, don't want to send my son off in sadness!" She exclaims

The other two make a sound of agreements before shuffling around as Chanyeol grabs his last bag from where it had fallen to the ground during the hug between he and his mother. 

They all make their way outside to stand in front of the house. 

Chanyeol looks between his parents, smile on his lips like always and his shoulders squared and proud. 

"I'll send a letter once I reach Falkreath..." 

"As soon as you arrive!" His mother reminds, pointing a finger at him to further her point. 

He nods, waving as he turns his back to his childhood home and makes his way out to the stables.

Most of the town's people wave him farewell, having known him and his sister since they were but baby's crawling around. It was nice to see the supportive smiles and waves. 

Reaching the stables wasn't hard, it sits just outside of the city walls. It was small but ran by an elderly man who used to pay Chanyeol to help him care for the horses. He's the reason that Chanyeol owned Toben, having sold him the gelding a few years back. 

Chanyeol had already packed the horses saddle down, his two bags attached evenly on either side of the black horses sides. He stepped up to his friend, smiling and rubbing at his snout. 

"Ready to go boy?" 

Of course, Toben doesn't reply besides bumping his nose into Chanyeol's hand when he stops his petting. But still he takes that as a yes and hums. 

He pulls Toben from the pen and shuts the gate behind him, making sure none of the others escape. He guides the horse away from the fencing a few feet before he's pulling himself up into the saddle and adjusting his shoulder bag to behind him, his cloak draping over the horses sides and rear. 

Chanyeol guides Toben around to walk in a circle to get him adjusted to the new weight of his bags and himself. He glances back at the city, his chest tightening a hair as he looks at the place he grew up. 

But as he looks up to the sky, the sun having risen high up now to sit just an hour before midday, the pinch is covered up by the undying need to explore. Excitement and nerves crackling in his veins. 

Chanyeol guides Toben to walk towards the main road that leads north to the Jerall Mountains, where just past the high and rough ridges laid Skyrim, lay his destiny. 


	2. Northern Snows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cities, Taverns, and Storytimes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy!   
> And please point of any grammar or misspelling mistakes please! 
> 
> For those who might notice: I want to point out that I cut and shortened the travel time it takes to cross the Jerall Mountains, I wrote that Chanyeol made it over in only a day and a half, but really it would take multiple days and it would be very rough! 
> 
> I did this because I both forgot how wide the mountain range is as well as my just bring lazy. From now on, all travels will be more realistic and based on the games own internal clock!! Thank you!

The Jerall Mountains raise the border between Cyrodiil and Skyrim, there's few paths that won't end in one's immediate greetings to the gods. 

The cold air and dense forests were occupied by ogres, bears, wolves, and creatures of the like. It was far from an easy place to live, even those in the area of Bruma struggled without it's walls. The forests were harsh, rocky from the mountains, and mostly cold and frozen the higher one went. 

Once upon a time Pale Pass, a discreet pathway that winded through the mountains, could have been an option to use, however with the Imperials recently reclaiming of the passage it wasn't an option anymore. 

The few paths that crossed the border weren't properly marked, and with how confusing it could be to trek the mountains and how easily one could get lost, it was no argument that Chanyeol was getting frustrated. 

He's lived so close to the border all of his life, he knows how far the mountain's base is and how long it could take to reach the next Province. He'd ran through this very forest and chased after insects and small critters as a child. 

Still despite all of that knowledge of his surrounding terrain, he's still getting turned around while looking for a specific road he can take. 

He groans, hands crumpling the edges of his map in annoyance. 

He's been riding for only a few hours, the sun has inched its way down the sky enough that makes him wonder if he'd even make it to Skyrim by night. He groans again. 

Chanyeol glances around, squinting at the far off structures or anything he thinks might be useful. He hums to himself, pulling at Toben's reins to veer to the side a bit. He pushes them towards a break in the trees, to what looks like a small road. 

It's headed north, straight into the mountains with no indication of stopping. He represses a noise of triumph as he glances back down at his map and notices the faintly drawn trail that matched up with his location. It leads into Skyrim, just outside of the City of Falkreath.

As Toben's gait evens out in a calm walk, Chanyeol thinks about his self appointed quest. 

He's never been able to properly describe the odd tug he feels in his chest to his fatherland, it's as unexplainable as the aedra and daedra themselves. 

From a young age he'd been drawn to the land, reading all of the books he could understand of both its history and culture. It never seemed too different from Bruma, after all the City was more Nord than Imperial and it held onto much of the old Nord ways. But there were it's differences, more of its people aligned with the Imperial Legion than the rebellion of The Stormcloaks in Skyrim, for obvious reasons of course. 

Though, Chanyeol didn't know much about the Civil War that was currently eating away at the Providence. His father didn't speak much of the battles or who's side he'd favor, though his dislike of the Empire gave away enough hints for Chanyeol to assume where his alliance was held. 

He thinks that the older man held his tongue for his mother's sake, she held a much less spiteful resentment towards the Empire compared to her husband. She didn't agree with the treaty the Empire had signed with The Thalmor, but she denied the war in Skyrim when his father wasn't around. Chanyeol had heard her complaining before, in the back reaches of their home while her husband had been busy outside. 

Chanyeol can't blame her distaste for the northern battles, though to him with his lack of knowledge figured that if The Stormcloak's wanted to deal bloodshed, then it wasn't his place to say. 

The Nords were a stubborn and bull-headed race, all bulky muscles and thick skulls. He understood their frustration. 

Though now, as he inches his way towards the border, he thinks he needs to learn more of the politics of Skyrim. He knew that their society, while not totally different, held its dissimilarities to Cyrodiil. 

With the tension currently building in the Providence, Chanyeol hopes he doesn't run into trouble too quickly. He expects it at some point, he knows the older Nords weren't particularly happy to see foreigners, even if they shared the same ancestral blood. 

He expects the southern and western holds won't be as bad, where the Thalmor and Imperials influence is the strongest, but the northern and eastern holds held the rebels. 

Chanyeol sighs, slumping in his saddle and looking around. 

The path he'd found is smoother than he'd have expected, carved deep into the ground and surrounding flora. If he squints really hard, he can see a gate up ahead in the arch of the mountain, right where the rock dips in to form an indention. 

He pushes Toben onwards, the bubbling excitement in his chest still warming his chest as he sees the distance he's put between himself and Bruma. 

Chanyeol rolls up his map, they're on an obvious path and he'd rather need to pull it back out later than let the wind snatch it from his hands. He also pulls the hood of his cloak over his head once they've hit the mountain's base. 

The snow thickens, turning from melting summer dustings to heavier blankets that cover the rocks and tree less sporadically. The air is nippy, biting at any exposed skin he has and keeping the snows from melting under the sun's light. 

The northern snows had always been worse, closer to Skyrim meant closer to the northern pole, possibly even the folklore snow lands of Atmora. 

Chanyeol had read about their planet's origins, the birth of Nirn and it's creators. He remembers being almost overwhelmed by the realms creation tales, and if he were to be honest they still confused him. Truly it was a lot of he-said-she-said back and forth that altered depending on the gods ones chose to dedicate their lives to. 

In spite of the fact that the subtleties shift with each culture and religion, all legends of the Beginning Time, which have been passed down through generation to generation, talk about two opposing forces in the Void who came to a conflict. Regardless of the nomenclature, all seem to represent the dichotomy between existence and nothingness, order and chaos, light and dark.

He couldn't remember much of the history of Nirn now, the knowledge he'd shoved inside of his brain when he was a mere 11 years old had been pushed back and misused for so many years now that he can barely remember which god had manifested time as they knew it. That was an exaggeration, it was Akatosh.

To him, their creation wasn't something to dwell on, nor was their purpose. 

Some man and elf were destined for great things. Emperor Tiber Septim had been placed into godhood by his people and was said to be an unmatchable Ruler, one they hadn't seen again since. The Champion of Cryodiil, Blodskaal, even those once born with the soul of the long fallen dragons. 

These people had been destined for greatness, but not everyone can save the world. 

Many pushed their own views of their life's purpose onto conquest, pleasure, war, or simply bloodshed depending on their beliefs. To him, he was meant to adventure. That was his purpose. 

He'd never been the child who prayed for The Nine to gift him power, he asked for no endless quests, he didn't dream of saving the world. Chanyeol dreamt of void and whispers, of following the call to the Fatherland and the new things to see and learn of. 

Chanyeol wasn't destined for saving the world, so why should he focus on anything other than his own life and choices. 

By the time the sun had finally set, Chanyeol had reached it to the dark archway he'd spotted before. A gate built in the tiny chip of the mountain made of scorched wood and old wood. 

There hadn't been anyone to use it in a while, the height of the snow mounds sat undisturbed by visitors or animals. Come morning it would be a perfect view of both Skyrim and Cyrodiil, high enough for the air to be thin and crisp as it filled ones lungs. 

But, there was no cover. 

Chanyeol didn't want to travel at night, especially attempt to trek down a snow covered mountain with a packed horse and little supplies. However he couldn't rest on the ridge, the wind was too strong and cold, the snow would freeze them both if they stayed out in it longer. 

He huffed, watching the sun dip down passed the horizon at a much faster rate than before, taking it's light with it. 

Chanyeol slides off of Toben, dropping his reins, and winces as the built up snow nearly reaches the top of his boots. He turns the horse and reaches into one of his packs. He searches blindly, cursing himself for not pulling one of his torches out before the sun had left him in the dark. 

He fumbles around, shoving aside parchment and scrolls, until he finds the wooden handle of one of his two torches. He makes a sound of triumph and pulls it out, nearly dropping a Quill out with it in his haste.

Chanyeol squints in the low light, he steps away from Toben for a moment not wanting to spook the horse at the moment. 

Magick wasn't something he was good at, but he was able to conjure fire. They tended to be small flames, large enough to start campfires or light the fireplace when it went out. It wasn't something he used often, and thus he barely held a novice level of skill with it. One day he might train himself more, grow his horizons from just swords and daggers. 

Chanyeol takes one of his gloves off, fingers immediately being gnawed at by the cold, and focuses the heat in his core to flood to his hand. 

Magick was weird, unlike swords or bows Magick couldn't be taught the same way as weapons. Magick was inside of the user, it wasn't an external tool to be picked up, it came from inside. Like a pool of energy that floated in their veins, some had more Magicka than others, but all beings had it. 

Chanyeol didn't have a large pool of Magicka, but with practice it could grow. 

The man lifts his hand, letting the heat that had traveled through his arm to ignite in his palm, the warmth of the small steady flame felt nice. He brought the flame closer to the torch, and watched it catch the dry pitch coated cloth at the top. 

He smiled, quickly trying to pull his glove back on and turns back towards Toben. The glow from the torch makes it much easier to grab the gelding's reins, and pull them over his head to lead him. 

The snow crunches under Chanyeol's weight, making his steps uneven and unbalanced as he walks them both to follow the trail down the mountain. The walk is slippery, panic lacing his veins every time his foot missteps or he hears Toben huff suddenly from behind him. 

Even with the torch, it's hard to see more than a few feet in front of him. He's thankful that it hasn't started to snow, and prays it doesn't. 

When he was a child his mother used to tell him stories of the snow monsters that lived in these very mountains, frost trolls and snow bears either pure white fur and red stained muzzles. He used to be afraid of them, especially at night. 

But now, he can't be afraid. 

He's not a small child anymore, he hasn't been for a long time now. But still, he can't help but go over those horror tales in the back of his mind. Distantly he wonders if there's any trolls living on the path he's chosen to take, they're tough creatures to fight. 

As he and Toben trudge through the snow and slip on the patches of ice, his grip on both the torch and the reins tighten. 

They've been walking for a bit now, probably already a quarter way down the mountain if he'd guess, but he'd yet to see anything that would provide a proper shelter for them both. He grunts to himself and curses his luck. 

The only option they had was to continue their trek until they either found a safe place from the snow or they reached the bottom of the mountain. He hates having to do this, he knows they'll be fine in the weather, they're both bred from the biting cold, but he still doesn't like it. 

Being a Nord had its advantages, other than their size and strength, but their notorious resistance to the northern freeze was one of the biggest benefits. It didn't stand at just nature's chill, spells and enchantments that were powered by the cold were much less effective against them.

They were descendants of the Atmorans and the Nedes after all, the northern ice and frost had been in their blood from the beginning of man. They were born from the ruins of Atmora.

He's cold, sure, but it's nothing he can't handle. 

Bruma was cold, it was so close to Skyrim that they shared that same chill year round that the southern part of the Providence did, but it's people weren't as accustomed to the further north bite. In the city, they'd keep fires going every hour. Large braziers covered the cities corners and streets to help warm the citizens, most of their houses had been built half underground to use the earth as a natural insulation. He knew that the cold he was used to, wasn't all he'd find in Skyrim.

Chanyeol and Toben trudge through the snow and breeze for what feels like hours by the time he's stumbled across a suitable carve into the mountains to stay in, his torch is dying, slowly dimming out. If he'd have to guess, they're probably half way down by now. 

The moons, Masser and Secunda, are high in the night sky, half covered by Norms shadow. They've been trekking for almost full days time by now, and he can feel the tiredness starting to creep into his bones. 

The small cave, if he could even call it that, was just tall enough for he and Toben to stand in, wide enough for them both but not much more. 

Chanyeol feels bad for making the horse rest here, forced to stay in one spot with his reins wrapped around a heavy rock the Nord had found. But he pats his friend on the neck as he pulls his bags and the saddle off. Thankfully Toben hadn't been sweating under the saddle, so he wasn't too worried about the horse getting sick over night. 

He shuffles around, the almost dead light of his torch barely lets him see anything other than the very faint light coming from the moons towards the entrance of their makeshift campsite. 

The rock is cold as he slumps down, using one of his bags as a pillow. It seeps through his cloak and clothes, making his back tingle at the feeling. 

He sighs, trying to get comfortable, before he turns his head in Toben's direction. 

"I'll give you a barrel of apples once we get to Falkreath if you don't hold this against me...deal?" 

Of course, the horse doesn't reply with anything other than a light click of a hood against the rock. However, Chanyeol takes that as an agreement like the loon his is. He curls into himself, ignoring the awkward pressure it puts on his shoulder, and lets sleep slowly take him for the night. 

By dawn's break Chanyeol is already tightening the straps of Toben's saddle while holding a quarter of a loaf of bread in his mouth. He'd been woken up not by his internal clock, but instead by the black horse chewing on his sleeve and nipping his arm accidently.

He guesses he should be grateful, after all waking up so early meant that they would have more daylight to travel in and he could actually see where he was at all times. But still the more childish side of him wanted to sleep in just a few more hours.

Now with the sun's light, Chanyeol too immense pride in confirming that they were in fact already half way down the other side of the mountain. The vast expansion of the Skyrim Providence sat right before him, the timber and valleys all visible from their vantage point. It filled him with excitement again, the same one that had fueled his departure. 

He was so close, a few more hours and he's been on foreign soil. The pull in his chest tugged at the thought. 

So, with a dopey smile on his face and a stomach light with bread and grapes, he sets off again, this time he doesn't feel the cold at all. His body is too busy buzzing with wonder. 

  
  
  
  


* * *

The trip down the mountain takes much less time than he originally thought, and the trek to his first destination takes even less. He's not sure if the reason is because of the distance or if he'd been too busy looking around the foliage and wildlife to notice, but by the time he arrives it's just after midday. 

The Falkreath hold is nice, it's all green forests and dull chills. 

He can't imagine that it's much different from southern Cyrodiil, the thick and tall pine trees are different species and there's much less variation in wild flowers but he knows that what grew down south can't grow here. 

The hold wasn't very large, nor was it very populated, only hailing two towns; The Capital, Falkreath, and a smaller town towards the east called Helgen. 

In retrospect, Chanyeol would admit that he hadn't done much research on the hold. It was too easily outshined by the bustling town of Whiterun or the port city Solitude, gods even the dwarven made city of Markarth seemed more interesting to study verses Falkreath. 

Granted, Falkreath was a not a hold to forget however, it's abundance of timber and the Lake Ilinalta made the hold useful to it's citizens and the Providence as a whole. 

But to the outsiders it wasn't the most wonderous place to be, those still Chanyeol was glad to see the city gates. 

Falkreath itself, was a small town. It held a somber gloom to it that he couldn't place right away as he and Toben approached the gate. 

Chanyeol pulls the horse to a stop, glancing around at the entrance of the town and the guard standing post. He frowns at the makeshift stable near the gate, it's just a single tie post and water trough with another horse already tied up. 

He pats Toben on his neck and reluctantly leads the horse to the small stables. He can feel the guards eyes watching him as he tries the reins to the post and pulls the bit from Toben's mouth. 

Falkreath wasn't known for its crime rates, but he's not completely comfortable leaving his packs on Toben over night unattended, though at the same time he can't just lug everything around while he walks the town. He sighs, choosing to trust the people of the town with probably too much faith. 

He watches Toben suck up water from the trough for a moment before he's turning around and making his way towards the city again. The guard says nothing, only watches him pass by with keen eyes. 

As he steps further into the tiny city he noticed the lack of people on the streets, only guards doing their patrols and a goat grazing at a patch of grass. It's very empty and open. The few buildings around are close together and all too similar to each other for him to distinguish them apart. 

They were all built of simple timber and cobblestone, much like the ones back home. However their design was more simple, less detailed and much more survival driven. Each building was the same, tall peaking roofs covered in layers of hay. 

He hears a whistle, and turns to a young woman leaning against the railing of what looks like the porch of a tavern. A swinging sign hooked on an extended post has two foaming pints clanking together and the words Dead Man's Drink written underneath. 

She must have seen his confused expression because she smiles a flirtatious smile at him that seems too well etched into her make up covered face. 

"Shor's bones! A handsome man in Falkreath!"

He blinks at her, not sure how to respond. 

It's not like he has never been complicated or hit on before, it's happened and just like the times before he doesn't know how to accept the gestures. He doesn't find himself ugly, but he knows that despite his built up frame he's got a baby face. He doesn't exactly fit the normal Nord men standards. 

She apparently understands that he doesn't know what to say because she leans back with a slightly annoyed expression on her face. 

"Looking for a bed?" 

Chanyeol nods, might as well settle his sleeping arrangements before he does anything else. 

"Head inside. Talk to the innkeeper at the bar, Valga." She huffs out, going back to leaning over the railing but no longer looking at him. 

He shrugs mumbles a few words of gratitude and decides to follow her advice, heading up the short stairs and entering the small tavern. 

As Chanyeol opens the door, he's hit with a blast of warmth that makes him sigh, he hadn't realized how much he'd missed a heated building. He glances around, taking note of how simple everything is. 

The ceiling is high and there's no second story or storage ledge. The walls are lined with benched tables that are only blocked off from the rest of the room by the roofs support posts. In the center of the room is a large fire pit, there's also a large cauldron set over the fire with some type of stew cooking away. 

There's not many people, only a man in armor who's looking at him with a strange look, a man with his back to him, an elderly man with expensive and noble looking clothes, a bard who's strumming idly on a Lute, and the woman standing at the bar. 

Chanyeol hums to himself, ignoring the others and walking straight to the woman he assumes is the Inn keeper. 

As he approaches the woman, an Imperial, looks up and offers him a polite smile. 

"Welcome to Dead Man's Drink, haven't seen you around before."

He nods, glancing around at the foods and drinks set out in the bars top. 

"Aye, I only just arrived to Skyrim from Cryodiil..." 

The lady, Valga if he remembers correctly, looks up at him with slightly sad eyes. 

"Ah, I haven't been back home in years..." 

"You're from Cyrodiil?" He asks

Valga nods, the sad smile being replaced with a slight frown. 

"Yes, born and raised until I was old enough to leave on my own. I left to escape the fighting, little did I know it was the same in Skyrim..." 

He frowns as she waves a hand around like she's swatting at a fly. "In the past!" She lets her hand fall to lean against the bar now. "What can I get for you?" 

Chanyeol chooses to let the topic fall, instead glancing around the bar and the things in the back. 

"Do you have a room available?" 

"Aye, how long do you plan on staying?" She asks. 

"One night, I think..." He ponders, not really sure how long he's going to be staying. Generally speaking, Chanyeol doesn't have a plan about his travels of Skyrim. 

Valga seems to understand his hesitation because she nods and gives him a knowing smile. 

"We don't get too much business, so don't fret about taking up space! 10 gold a night."

He nods, reaching into his shoulder bag and pulling out a small handful of gold coins from his coin bag. He counts out 10 of the Septims and slides them to her. 

"Thank you, your room is the second door on the right. If you need anything else, just ask." Chanyeol nods and turns to the direction she'd pointed him to. 

The room is small but that's not unexpected for a tavern. There's a large wardrobe that's wedged in between the door and the bed, a small table sits in the corner as well.

He sighs and unstraps his cloak, dropping it onto the bed unceremoniously along with his bag right after. He hadn't realized how heavy both items had been, his shoulders relax and his neck stops aching as much. 

  
  


As much as he wants to sit down and relax after his long trip he needs to replenish his supplies as well as planning what he is going to do. 

Chanyeol stretches, joints and bones popping as he moves with satisfying cracks. Deciding that it would be best to get the shopping out of the way, he grabs his shoulder bag from off of the bed and slings it over his shoulder. As he leaves the room there's a loud crashing noise followed by a shout.

"Sehun!" 

"Sorry Miss Valga!" 

Jerking his head up at the scene, Chanyeol sees the man - really he's but a boy - who had his back to him before bent to the ground and picking up a group of red apples from the floor. It's obvious that the boy had dropped them, the basket next to him has a bent in the side. He tries not to snort, faintly he's reminded of his own incompetence when it came to not dropping or breaking things. 

Chanyeol doesn't get involved, instead stepping in the other direction to go back outside. He can hear Valga berating the boy as he leaves. 

The outside air hits him hard, with the lack of his cloak he can feel the cold much more than before. 

He's sure that he hadn't been inside long, but once he's outside Chanyeol notices that the sun has fallen much further down the western sky compared to when he last checked. He huffs, looking at the building across from the Inn and squinting at the sign he hadn't noticed before. 

Gray Pine Goods. Perfect. 

Chanyeol hastily makes his way to the shop, wanting to hurry before they closed for the night. As he goes to open the door, it swings away from his grasp and a man halts his agitated escape from the shop. 

He huffs as he stares at Chanyeol before pushing past the taller Nord with a rough hit to the shoulder. 

Chanyeol glares after the man as he stomps further into town, but stops as a voice calls out from inside of the shop. 

"Please, come in! Unlike my brother, I've no dislike of strangers." The voice exclaims. 

He frowns but still enters the small shop, seeing a man behind the counter who had a sympathetic grin pointed at him. Chanyeol walks to the counter. 

"Don't mind Bolund. He's young and gets riled easily..." The man says once he's stopped his advance. 

Chanyeol hums.

"It's okay, I understand." 

There's an awkward and tense pause between the two before the man speaks up again, a strained tone in his voice. 

"Well, what can I help you with?" 

Chanyeol shakes away his own tightness and glances around the shop. 

It's small, but there's many items lined up on the shelves and tables. Ranging from potions to knick knacks. His eyes glaze over the displays, thinking off everything he needs to replace for his journey to his next destination. 

He lists off things from the top of his head, relieved when the man nods at each item he names. He'd hate to have to fore-go some things he'd consider essential. He's thankful that this man has everything he needs. 

By the time Chanyeol is done and standing next to Toben to put his new supplies in his packs, the sun has finally dropped down past the horizon. 

He feels the days exhaustion slowly entering his body, he yawns. Patting his friend on the neck, he double checks his packs and Toben's ties. The call for a warm bed is strong. With everything in good shape, he pats the horse one last time and heads back to the tavern for the night. 

The Dead Man's Drink is much more busy than when he first arrived, the townsfolk having moved from their daily lives to relax amongst their neighbors. The tavern feels warmer, the air is livelier with the bards songs and the chatter of the citizens. His stomach grumbles at the thick smell of cooked food. 

As he walks to Valga he can feel eyes on him again, he glanced back with furrow brows and lands his gaze on the man from earlier who'd worn the leather armor. He staring at Chanyeol with that same odd expression, squinting every now and then. 

"Don't mind Thadgeir, he's harmless." 

Valga's voice spooks him, causing him to jerk his head towards the sudden voice. She sends him another polite but softer smile. 

"Hungry?" 

Chanyeol spares the man from before one last glance before he nods. 

"Always, what have you got?"

He settles with the venison stew that had been boiling away earlier. 

Nordic food is bland, tough and under seasoned, but it does it's job. It fuels the people, gives them the energy needed for hard work and warms their bodies from the inside out. Skyrim a way of cooking isn't really different from Brumas, however that doesn't mean he doesn't cringe a little bit with every spoonful of salty and bland stew. 

But still, he's comfortable sitting at one of the tables benches, bowl in front of him and a tankard of mead next to his hand. The warmth of the soup makes him miss his mother's cooking already, the feeling intensifies when he realizes that he won't see her in a while. 

Back when he and Yoora were children, his mother would make them blackberry tarts. She only made them for special occasions, birthdays and celebrations, but he remembers how much he'd loved them. There were two in his bag, wrapped up in parchment paper with a note, but he couldn't bring himself to eat or read either of them just yet. 

He hoped they were doing okay, sure he hadn't been gone long but he still worried. His parents were getting older, and though Nords lived long lives without a death during war he knew their bodies were wearing down. 

A voice speaks next to him, startling him enough that he almost spills his drink with the way his hand flies up. 

"Hey, boy." 

He spins at his torso to see the man who'd been staring at him before now standing next to him, that same look on his face. Up close he notices how much older he is, maybe around his father's age or a little older. His hair and beard have gone white, face marred with old scars and general age. 

Chanyeol frowns at him, voice coming out a little too high for his liking.

"Can I help you?" 

The man looks at him for a moment, pale eyes darting around Chanyeol's face, before he straightens up. 

"Are you related to a man named Muyeol?" 

Chanyeol tenses at the mention of his father, he sits up a bit, hand subtly coming to rest on the handle of his dagger. 

"Aye, what of it?" 

The man seems to notice his sudden defensive nature as he cracks a tiny smile at him and takes a small step back.

"No need for that, lad. I only ask because I knew him as a boy, you look a lot like him when he was young." 

He relaxes, fully turning to the man and raising an eyebrow. 

"You knew my father?" 

"Why, of course! Grew up together!" The man exclaims, his grin growing just a hair. 

He sits down next to Chanyeol, and before long he's spilling story after story about his childhood with Chanyeol's father. Each take warms his heart, getting to hear the small adventures his father never shared with him. 

The two talk into the night, until the man, Thadgeir, grows too tired to continue and finally retires to his home and leaves Chanyeol to his own room in the inn. 

That night Chanyeol goes to sleep as soon as his body hits the bed, completely forgetting to take off his boots or detach his weapons belt.

It's a good and dreamless sleep. 

  
  
  



End file.
